


Heaven's Calling

by QueenBeeComplex



Series: FANGS - written order  (suggested) [8]
Category: Black Veil Brides
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Early Days, F/M, Gen, Magic, Magic-Users, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Prophecy, Prophetic Dreams, Prophetic Visions, Prophets, Slave Trade, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-30 00:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16754029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBeeComplex/pseuds/QueenBeeComplex
Summary: The Majik Council is at a loss for how to handle this 21st Century Prophet. A young Mystic with an impressive repertoire offers a risky solution.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place way before You Are My Love Drug so no fun Andly sex. Sorry guys.

"And now for the next order of business," Councilman Ebrues started. "The young Prophet is in need of a new guardian."

"What's wrong with Augustus? He's been assigned to the kid since his awakening," one of the younger women on the council asked.

Councilman Ebrues sighed. "The boy has big dreams. He plans to move to Los Angeles after high school graduation. Augustus is elderly. In a small town, he can offer enough quiet authority and his vast stores of knowledge to the boy, but he is not fit to take on the rigor of big city dangers."

Another council member cleared his throat. "Am I reading this right? He is in the company of two vampires?"

"Yes," interjected Councilwoman Circe. As Augustus's sister, she had a more intimate knowledge of the situation. "The halfblood has been close to him for several years now. She was orphaned as a young adolescent and raised by her mother's sister. The other vampire is the pureblood son of the aunt who raised her. She and her cousin both went to the same high school the boy currently attends, though the cousin has long since graduated. She was a senior when the boy started his band his sophomore year. Then a few months ago, the band's guitarist went to college, so she brought her cousin in. They've both been discretely screened, though both are still Bound."

"Three years in close proximity and his closest known associate is still Bound?" one council member asked.

"He is intimate with a Fallen?" another qurried almost at the same time. "Is that even allowed?"

There was a loud clearing of throat sound from Councilman Ebrues. "In all our years of research and the gathering of knowledge, as you all know, we have never truly been able to understand the laws and motivations guiding the Angelic, especially the Fallen. As far as we know, she is unaware of the boy's gift. Rest assured, the Fallen known to her kind as Talibah is being closely monitored. As of now, she has been nothing short of loving and supportive of the boy. In fact, we believe her love for him is the reason she Fell."

Silence fell over the council chamber a long moment, then one of the young Mystics who'd been tasked with guard duty approached the table.

"Not to speak out of turn, sir," he started hesitantly.

Councilman Ebrues eyed the boy skeptically. "What is your name, young man?"

"Ferguson, sir. Jeremy Ferguson." Despite his short stature, the boy stood with a quiet authority the Councilman had never seen in one so young.

"How old are you?"

"22, sir."

The Councilman nodded. "You are very young to be guarding the inner chamber. Tell me how you came to take this post?"

Jeremy shifted his weight onto one side. "I traveled a lot, sir. My parents are one of the missionary couples. As a result, I learned my magic in a rather, ah, nontraditional manner, but it granted me top marks in all of my exams. Which, by the way, I took at 16 rather than 20 like most."

"Impressive." The Councilman's eyebrows raised as he spoke. "Well, Jeremy, while it is rather unorthodox, we are at a loss as to how to handle the Prophet. Perhaps some insight from someone closer to his age would be helpful."

Jeremy pressed his palms together as he bowed slightly. "Thank you, Elder Councilman Ebrues." Straightening, he began, "Andy isn't going to respond well to traditionalists."

"You speak as if you know him," Councilwoman Circe interrupted.

With a patient smile, the young Mystic shook his head. "I've never met him. But I did run a short circuit with Ashley and his cousin Sandra the summer after my exams. Mostly just Ashley. Sandra was around for a few days every couple of weeks, but she had responsibilities to Andy and the band that pulled her away. Nonetheless, she had such praise for Andy. Over those few months I grew to see him in her eyes. I had no idea he was the Prophet, Andrew, until I heard about the two vampires in his company just now."

The council listened thoughtfully, taking in all he had to say. Then Councilman Ebrues said, "so what do you suggest?"

The young man took a deep breath. "Not to be bold, but I would like the job."

Shocked gasps and exclamations echoed through the council chamber. Many of the older council members were completely against the idea. The boy was too young, too inexperienced. Some of the younger members were skeptical, and perhaps cautious of the ambition of one so young.

"That is rather bold, young man," Councilman Ebrues boomed, silencing the room. "But if what you say about Prophet Andrew is true, perhaps bold is what we need." He motioned for a chair to be brought over, and Jeremy was seated at the table. "Shall we set up a meeting?"

"No," Jeremy immediately responded. "Look, this kid is gonna hate that. The council comes in and upsets his life, dictates where he should be, forces him to rearrange his schedule. No. Trust me, musicians, especially vocalists, hate that shit."

Some of the older council members gasped at his language.

"Ah, my apologies." He closed his eyes a long moment, seemingly arranging his thoughts. "I'll meet with Elder Augustus. There's still a few months before Andy graduates. I can learn from him for the time being. And as for meeting Andy? I have an in. I've known Ashley and Sandra for some years now. I played a little guitar as a teenager. Might be a bit rusty but...he wants to make it big in music, right? Having his assigned Mystic be a member of his band solves all the questions as to why a kid trying to make it in music has a random old man following him around - no offence. I just..." he bobbled his head side to side a moment. "I was raised with the general populus, not with other Majik children. I know how they think, how they perceive things. An Elder Mystic will not be well recieved, and may actually make him more of a target for beings who know how to spot Majiks. I know the L.A. music scene. I know how to blend in with the humans. At least let me try."

After a long moment of silence, Circe softly added, "For what it's worth, the kid may have a point. Augustus has been telling me for years that the Council is too out of touch with modern culture to know how to appropriately manage Prophet Andrew."

"Very well," Councilman Ebrues boomed. "Let's put it to a vote."


	2. Part 2

Andy sighed and took another slow sip of his coffee. Open mic night at Augustus's bar was always slow and borderline cringey. He had to respect it, though. Without open mic nights, he never could have started a band.

"Watcha reading, creepo? More mythology?"

The Prophet rolled his eyes, not even bothering to look up at the high school bully. "I'm surprised you can even pronounce 'mythology,' Brian."

"Well at least I don't spend all my time with my nose buried in books like you, fucking creepo.

"Maybe you should try. Then you'd know that 'creepo,' isn't a word." Andy lightly turned the page, fingertips tracing over a line of text. Then the book was jerked out from under his hands.

"How can you even read this grabage? It's all weird symbols."

"It's ancient Greek," Andy responded with an edge to his voice. "Now please give it back. That book is older than this country."

"Nothing can be older than a place, dumbass. Everyone knows that." Brian flapped the book in his hand, laughing as the pages rustled.

"Well that book dates back to the 1300s, and the United States weren't established until 1776. Now please, put it down before you damage it. It's invaluable."

The bully continued shaking the book just out of Andy's grasp.

"Mr. McCoy, unless you're aiming for a ban from my property, I'd suggest you put my 14th century lore back where you got it."

Andy jumped a bit at the spike of authoritative energy his Mystic set off.

"Sorry, Mr. Kongst. Didn't know it was yours." The kid placed the book back on the bar and stepped away.

"It shouldn't matter to whom the book belongs. Literature is not a toy to swing about. Now I suggest you find a spot out on the floor away from my nephew."

Andy huffed and reached for the book, only to have the Mystic slap his hand down over the cover. "What have I told you about books older than 18th century?"

The boy sighed. "That they're not to leave the house." He huffed and dropped back into his stool as the Mystic picked up the volume and disappeared into the stock room.

"Why so glum, kiddio?"

Andy rolled his eyes at Sandra. "Uncle Gus took my reading again."

Sandra laughed. "Only you would bring a book to a bar."

"Well what else am I supposed to do? You can't actually expect me to suffer through all the kids up there who think they're rockstars just because daddy bought them a guitar for Christmas."

"Need I remind you that you WERE one of those kids when I met you?" Sandra teased.

"Bitch," Andy poked back without venom.

"Come on," the drummer insisted, nudging Andy's arm with her own. "We still need a guitarist."

"And you really think we're gonna find one here?"

"You never know." There was a suspicious twinkle in the corner of her eye.

Andy eyed his band mate skeptically. "What do you know that I don't."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

Andy huffed. "I'm going for a smoke."

"If you see Ashley, tell him to come talk to me!" the woman called after him.

"Can't you chastise him at home?" Andy shot back, jerking the door closed behind himself. He propped his leg up against the wall as he leaned back, pulling his smokes from his pocket. A click of the lighter and a deep inhale had that blessed nicotine rushing through his system. He hummed a bit to himself, considering word choice for a new song he'd been mulling over. Then a flash of something shiny caught his eye.

"Who in their right mind brings a violin to an open mic at a bar," Andy asked himself. He knew by the pristine condition of the metallic case that it was a violin and not a fiddle. In technicality, they were the same instrument. But fiddlers tended to carry busted up old leather hard cases that matched their worn jackets and cowboy boots. This kid was dressed classically. As in opera classically, all the way down to a waist coat and top hat.

Andy flicked the last of the ash from his cigarette and put it out against the brick of the building. Then he walked around and let himself in the back.

"Yes, Andrew?" Augustus asked without looking up.

"Look, some kid just walked up in here with a violin and I have no desire to watch him commit social suicide so can I please have my book back?"

"You know the rules, Andrew."

Andy groaned in annoyance. "You are so irritating! I was actually on to something."

"Then take the book and go home."

"Sandra's making me stay."

The Mystic snorted. "Since when does the halfblood make you do anything?"

"Since she's right about us needing a new guitarist. And since she actually agreed with Ash on it."

Augustus offered a knowing grin. "Oh, so it's the Deviant keeping you here."

"Shut up," Andy snapped. "You can think what you want, but I'm marrying Scout."

"Does that mean you've finally decided to Unbind her?"

"Hey Asshole!"

Andy smirked at the sound of Ashley's voice filtering in from the bar. "Saved by the Deviant," he shot towards his Mystic before slipping through the curtain.

"Yes, Ashley? What can I do for you?"

A wicked gleam caught the vampire's eye. "I can think of a few things."

"Perv, " Andy snipped. He reached under the bar for a whisky bottle and a glass. "Two fingers?"

"If you think I can take that much," Ashley responded, voice dripping with innuendo.

Andy just rolled his eyes and poured the whisky into the glass then shoved it at the bassist. Then he grabbed a beer and a soda from the fridge behind him, popping the caps on the bottle opener fastened to the wall as he pushed through the hinging door out from behind the bar.

"So what are we looking for," the singer asked, passing the beer to Sandra.

"Well for starters, someone who can play on beat."

"Ah, come on, Sandy," Ashley interrupted. "We need style. A flare for the dramatic. We need to be looking in LA, not this god forsaken hell hole."

"You can look all you want out there, Ash, but I have the final say. And since, until June, I'm stuck in this 'god forsaken hell hole,' we will continue looking in this 'god forsaken hell hole,' kay?"

-

An hour had passed, and almost no one seemed viable.

"What about the kid with the green guitar?" Ashley suggested.

"In three years, maybe," Andy responded with a shake off his head. "I'm not waiting around another three years."

Both men looked down over Sandra's shoulder at her notes. "Yeah, that bad," Ashley mused when his eyes caught the scribble of "just quit" under the name of the kid who's guitar had been so out of tune it was hard to listen to.

The soft clearing of a throat attracted the trio's attention. Then a long note rung out from a violin.

Andy just stared. Maybe he had misjudged this kid. "Well, he's certainly got dramatic flare."

The violinist had his back to the audience so his silhouette pressed out from the stage. The back of his waist coat was studded with rhinestones in the shape of a skull. And Andy would have to have lived under a rock to not recognize the melody being pulled from the instrument.

"Stairway is a bold choice even for guitar," Sandra murmured.

They listened, captivated for a few minutes. Then, as the song reached the infamous guitar solo, the musician spun on one foot to face the audience, leaning enthusiastically into each note.

"Is that...?" Ashley asked, leaning forward a bit and squinting against the stage lights.

"Mhmm," Sandra responded in a self satisfied tone.

Andy just stared, transfixed at the movements of the violinist. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until the last long, slow note rung out and the room erupted in cheers.


	3. Part 3

"Come on, let's go say hi," Ashley insisted, grabbing the other two by the wrist and dragging them behind the side curtain to the small offstage room.

As soon as the instrument was safely packed away in its shiny case, Sandra barreled across the room and leaped on the man's back with a cry of "Jinxx!!!"

Andy wrinkled his brow in confusion as, instead of being thrown to the ground, an arm wrapped around Sandra's legs and spun her to the man's front in a strong embrace. "Hey, half pint!"

"Hey, J. Nice to see you," Ashley said with a warm smile and a clap to the man's shoulder. "Didn't know you were coming to town." He shot a pointed look at his cousin.

"Surprise?" She squeaked, shrugging as she settled back on her feet.

Andy slowly approached, hand extended to introduce himself.

"Jeremy Ferguson," the man responded, taking the offered hand. "But most people call me Jinxx."

Andy smiled, but the wheels in his head were already spinning. He knew that surname. He just couldn't place it. "So what brings you to Ohio?"

"Well," Jinxx started, arm wrapping over Sandra's shoulders. "A little birdie told me you're looking for a guitarist."

Andy's eyebrows shot up. "You play violin."

"Because a violin is easier to travel with. I play guitar, too. Both electric and acoustic. My electric should be arriving in Sandra's mail in a few days."

"Do you play well?"

Jinxx's head bobbled back and forth. "I may be a little rusty, but I backed up this maniac for three months so I can't be too bad." He lightly bumped his fist against Ashley's shoulder.

"Hey, man, no easy feat. Ashley's a diva on lead. That's why I put him on bass."

"You just don't like being upstaged, pipsqueak," the older man piped back.

"Anyways," Andy continued. "I look forward to hearing you play an instrument bigger than my thumb."

Jinxx laughed. "You think my violin is small, you should see a viola."

"A vi-whata?"

"It's like a violin but smaller," Sandra whispered loudly in fake discretion.

Jinxx laughed a bit as Andy shook his head in annoyance.

"I am out of whisky," Ashley announced. "Come on, San. Next rounds on me. You want anything J?"

"Nah, man. Not tonight. You two go ahead. I'm gonna talk to Andy for a bit."

"Yeah okay. Don't bore the poor man, pipsqueak."

"Don't mind them," Andy said, smirking and shaking his head a bit.

Jinxx just smiled back. "You're young. He's earned enough years to tease you."

"Perhaps, but 'pipsqueak' is a reputation killer."

Jinxx laughed a moment. Sobering, he asked, "is there somewhere more private we could speak?"

Andy eyed the man, skeptically. "Yeah, sure..." He motioned for Jinxx to follow him to the back. He made a quick glace around the stock room to make sure Augustus was out on the floor and not in there. "Come on back," he insisted.

Jinxx removed his hat as he stepped over the threshold. He could feel the wards of an older mystic under his feet. "Prophet Andrew," he started, bowing slightly.

"Damnit," Andy groaned. "What do they want, this time?"

Jinxx laughed a bit. "Well, I know I never want to have to call you that, again."

"Wait, what?"

The Mystic scuffed his foot against the wood floor. "I wasn't lying to Sandra when I told her I was looking for a gig. Just...the gig I'm looking for has less to do with music and more to do with you."

"What are you talking about?" Andy fiddled nervously with the ends of his sleeves.

"When you move to L.A., Elder Augustus will be stepping down as your Mystic."

Andy sat down on a crate, trying to grasp what was being said. "But he's accompanied us on tours in the past."

"Managing a few weeks in adjacent states and moving to one of the most supernaturally dangerous cities in the world require very different skill sets," Jinxx responded. "He's too old to hold up against the Daethlysk population out there."

"Why can't you just call them 'demons' like everyone else?" Andy groaned.

Jinxx's reply was serious. "Because I've met a few. And they take exception to being lumped in with the Judeo-Christian ideals of fallen angels and beings of evil."

Andy sighed. "Okay, so what's the decree?"

"You have a month to accept me as your new Mystic, otherwise they do it their way, not mine."

"Do you really play guitar?"

Jinxx shrugged. "I'm decent. I can hold a lead position, but I prefer rhythm, so if you found someone better, I'd have no problem stepping back."

Andy nodded thoughtfully. "Do Sandra and Ashley know you're a Mystic?"

"Ashley does. We accidentally crossed into Daethlysk territory and they took exception to a pure blood tramping around. He tried seducing one of their girls. I ended up using the water system to get us out of there." Jinxx shifted a bit and sighed. "Whether he told Sandra or not is anyone's guess."

"Probably not, then, " Andy groused. "Ashley has a habit of not sharing important information."

Jinxx smirked. "I bet you just love that."

With a sigh, Andy turned to face out into the bar, eyes falling on Ashley almost immediately. "It doesn't help that, as far as either of them know, I'm just a normal human. I think Sandra has her suspicions. A town this small, word travels. And Augustus taking a special interest in my education caused quite a bit of talk. Especially because neither of us can really talk about what I'm learning. That, and a 17 year old who can read dead languages the way most boys play Nintendo is alarming."

Jinxx stepped forward, arm outstretched. He hesitated a moment, stilling his magic, then rested his hand on Andy's shoulder. "Do you think you're in danger of being discovered, here?" Magic ebbed from his hand on a protective manner.

A thin, nicotine stained hand came up to rest over the Mystic's. "I don't think so. This is a small town, after all. My mother was notorious for her love of literature when she was in school. Dad was the town miscreant. A weird kid who plays rock music and reads old books is a logical result. I think, in this town, I am protected by the preconceived notions the town has created since a sweet bookworm got on the back of a Harley and rode into the sunset." He sighed, watching Ashley pound back a row of shots.

"Anywhere else, though, and the old books will become suspicious. That's what worries me about LA." The Prophet turned to face his new friend. "I have to be the hardcore rocker, and nothing else, in the public eye. Now, I do 'fuck the world' really well, but I haven't figured out how to manage the necessities of my duties as a Prophet. I can't exactly take an entire library with me to LA."

Jinxx laughed. He just straight up laughed for several long moments.

"What am I missing?" Andy deadpanned.

"That key around your neck doesn't go to Elder Augustus's library, dipshit."

Andy's brow furrowed as his fingers lightly stroked over the ornate filigree handle of the old skeleton key. "What do you mean?"

The mystic sighed and pulled a matching key from around his neck. "Observe," he insisted, crossing over to the closet door and holding the key to the small keyhole. In a small flash, the end of the key changed to fit the door. "See? It's a portal key to the Mystic's Library of Prophets. You can access it from anywhere."

"For the love of the gods, Mr. Ferguson, I was hoping to keep that a secret until his graduation."

Both boys turned in alarm.

"My apologies, Elder Augustus," Jinxx insisted with a slight bow. "It was not my intention to undermine your teaching, I was just surprised he didn't know."

"He didn't know," Augustus started, closing the library door and sealing it away. "Because he would use it to skip class. I don't need the added stress of him turning janitor closets into a library so he can avoid Algebra."

Andy opened his mouth to protest, but Augustus was right. He absolutely would use hiding in a massive library to get out of doing anything even remotely resembling math.

"Your key, Andrew, is to be left with myself or Mr. Ferguson during school hours."

"What? But-"

Jinxx sighed and patted Andy's shoulder. "Admit it, kid. You were planning on skipping math and science tomorrow."

Andy just growled and stalked off towards the bar. Mystics were no fun. Also if someone didn't intervene soon, they'd be carrying Ashley out of the bar.

"He is a handful. I hope you're equipped for the challenge."

Jinxx sighed. "Well, I have a month to get him to trust me. If he does decide to accept me as his new guardian, I will still have two more months to learn."

With a soft smile, Augustus sat down against one of the larger crates. "He already likes you, kid. I can see the bond forming, already. You have the advantage of the Deviant's trust on your side. Andrew knows the Vampire to be rather particular when it comes to people he allows near his little cousin. And the fact he didn't blink when Sandra leapt into your arms says more than any words you could possibly think, write, or speak."

Jinxx nodded in understanding. "You will accept me as an apprentice, then?"

The old Mystic laughed. "I suppose you're up for the challenge. You can move your things into my guest room, tomorrow. I assume you're wanting to spend the rest of the evening with your friends."

The younger man pressed his palms together and bowed. "Thank you, Master Augustus," he said, straightening.

Augustus nodded and stood. "You are dismissed, Mr. Ferguson. I will see you in the morning."


	4. Part 4

"Let's hear it, then," Andy snapped, resting against a speaker.

Jinxx sighed, looping the strap of his electric over his head. "To what are you referring? My guitar playing or the hours overdue lecture regarding writing in Prophet Language on your math test?"

Andy scoffed. "It's not exactly like I can control the waking visions, Jinxx. If one wants to present in the middle of a math test, what else am i supposed to do?"

"Excuse yourself. Write on the scrap paper. Write on your arms if you have to. But don't write in the test booklet that gets sent to the state board of education!" Jinxx huffed and dropped into a chair, fingers lightly strumming over strings then twisting knobs as he worked his guitar into tune.

"Look, I'm not exactly happy about out either but you know I still haven't really gotten control of the stronger visions."

"Have you been sleeping?"

Andy shrunk back a bit. "No..."

With a long sigh, Jinxx stood, fingers picking a quick run. "You have to sleep."

"Sleep is only effective until I wake up at three a.m. thrown from an intense, sometimes painful vision." Andy huffed and threw a wadded up page from his song book.

"Have you tried sleeping with Talibah?"

Andy's head jerked up. "How do you know Scout's Name?"

Jinxx laughed. "Please! Don't you know we do extensive screening on anyone in proximity to the Prophets?"

The boy shook his head a bit. "I suppose. It never occurred to me. And besides, what does my sex life have to do with the visions?"

"That's not how I meant it." The Mystic stalked over and kicked at the amp until the low hum of feedback ceased. "Just it's been shown that most Prophets tend to have more control in their visions when a lover is with them to pull them back."

Andy nodded a bit. "I dunno. I don't really notice a difference when I'm with her."

Jinxx sighed and nodded a bit. "Well, I'm sure you'll find the opportunity to test it more consciously." Then he adjusted his sheet music on its stand. He took a moment to memorize the basic lines, fingertips ghosting across the chords without picking. "Alright, ready?"

Andy grunted in affirmation, not looking up from his notebook. Then a high, clear guitar riff echoed through the empty bar, and he glanced up in alarm. "Hey, that's not what I wrote!" He yelled over the noise.

Jinxx stuck his tongue out at the kid as his fingers danced across the strings. "No, kid, " he started, shaking out a note before diving back in. "It's way better."

Andy growled in annoyance and stalked off the stage, only to slam hard into a firm, muscled chest.

"Where ya going, pipsqueak?"

"Fuck off, Purdy!"

The bassist wagged his head. "Nah, I don't think so. Why don't you tell me why you're suddenly so against Jinxx? He's clearly talented."

"Because he," Andy started, scuffing his boot against the worn wood floor, "like Uncle Gus, thinks he can tell me what to do. And I DON'T NEED TO BE LECTURED ABOUT LYRICS IN MY MATH TEST!" The last bit he yelled loud enough for Jinxx to hear over his guitar.

Ashley snorted. "He's just looking out for you. Jinxx is...special. He tends to have a sixth sense about some things."

Yeah, most Mystics do, Andy thought to himself. "And what would you know about it?" He demanded instead.

Ashley shrugged and tossed his bangs from his face. "Eh, it's saved me from a rough patch or three back in LA."

"So?"

"So," Ashley started with a sigh, "he's a valuable asset. And a loyal friend. And a damn good musician. I know you don't trust easy, kid, but you do seem to trust me. Give this guy a chance. I know I'm glad I did when he ran a circuit with me a couple years back."

Andy crossed his arms defiantly, but Ashley was right. "Fine. He has a month. If he has a good enough handle on the music by my spring break he can come on that short tour with us."

A wicked smirk crossed Ashley's face. "Excellent," he mused, reaching into the inside pocket of his vest for his phone. "I'll tell Sandra."

"If you don't want to be chastised," Jinxx's voice started from over Andy's shoulder. "Then don't do things worth chastising."

Ashley rolled his eyes and stalked off, raising his phone to his ear.

"I told you, I can't really control them."

"Ah, yes, but you can control where you write your record of them. From now on I'd suggest somewhere Elder Augustus and I don't have to track down, plead, threaten, and memory wipe to reacquire."

Andy sighed in irritation. "I'll try, I pro-" Then he fainted dead away.

The Mystic just barely caught the spark of a vision in the boy's eye in time to catch him. He dragged the lanky singer over to the beat up old couch and laid him out. Then he reached into Andy's bookbag for his notebooks, rifling through each one until he found Prophet Writing. He left that book on Andy's chest with a pencil clipped to the ugly patterned cover, then hurried towards the bar with a silent prayer that Elder Augustus was in the back room.

-

Andy gasped for breath as he awoke.

"Hey, shhh, baby. It's okay."

"Scout?"

The fallen angel gave a warm giggle. "Yes, dear. You're okay. It was just a dream."

Andy sighed. Then he was aware of a weight pressing into his chest. Gods bless whomever had the sense to put his vision journal within reach. He clutched it tight to his chest and sat up. Then he leaned over to give his girlfriend a long, slow kiss. "Can you go get me something to drink?" He asked, sweetly.

"Sure thing, love," the girl responded with a lopsided smile. She rose and flounced through the sidestage curtain.

Andy sighed and flipped open his journal to a blank page. Without even really looking, he hurriedly scribbled a general synopsis of what he'd seen. What he wished he hadn't seen. Then, with shaking hands, he slipped the notebook into his bookbag and flopped back against the worn leather with a rough sigh.

"Here you go, baby," Scout said sweetly as she eased into the small space with two glasses in her hands. "Here's some water, but I thought you might prefer something a bit stronger. Whatever you were dreaming, you seemed unsettled."

The singer rubbed at his eyes and reached for the glass of whisky. "Remind me not to fall asleep listening to Black Sabbath," he mumbled. Then he downed the whisky in one hard swallow.

"Guys, Sandra's not answering her phone." Ashley called, slamming into the bar.

"Damnit!" Andy groaned, burying his head in his hands again. He threw his glass across the room, not even caring as it shattered against the wall.

"That can't be good," Jinxx murmured as he and Augustus entered the main room together.

"Scout, dear, would you excuse us?" Augustus asked, softly. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

The girl nodded and eased out of the room.

"Ash, come with me. Maybe we can find her," Jinxx insisted, corraling the vampire out of the bar.

"They're not going to find her, are they, Andrew?" Augustus's voice was soft as he knelt beside the couch.

Andy swallowed hard and shook his head. "She should have told me she was going. I could have arranged for backup."

"Going where, Andrew?"

The Prophet just shook his head, hand clamped over his mouth as he fought down a sob.

"Andrew, we can't help her if you don't tell me where she is."

Andy let out a shaking breath. "Slave den. Somewhere north of LA."

Without wasting a second, the old Mystic pulled a cell phone from his pocket and quickly punched a message to Jinxx. "We are going to get her back," he insisted with a firm hand on Andy's shoulder.

The singer just collapsed against his guardian's shoulder. He couldn't hold back the tears, now. "She was supposed to tell me when she went in."

Augustus furrowed his brow. "You knew?"

Andy nodded against the Mystic's shoulder. "Y-yeah. She told me back in September when she came back with all those bruises. She promised she'd tell me when she left."

Augustus sighed and held the boy tight. It was so hard, sometimes, to remember that the Prophet was essentially still a kid. "We'll get her back, Andy. It'll be okay." He gently rubbed up and down the kid's back, silently praying that he was right. He couldn't afford not to be right.

-

Jinxx jumped when his phone buzzed. "What the hell is she doing in a slave den?"

Ashley glanced at him in shock, then returned his attention to the road. "Damnit, she said she wouldn't go back." Then he pressed the gas pedal to the floor and merged into the far left lane heading West. "I'm gonna fucking kill her."

"Ashley!" Jinxx yelled. "Stop it. We need to go to your house."

"No, I have to get to her before she gets herself killed!"

"Exactly," Jinxx said, calmly, reaching across to press a comforting hand to the Vampire's shoulder. "I'm a Mystic, remember? If we go to your house I can use any number of means to get out to LA. Means much faster than driving double the speed limit which may very well get _us_ killed."

Ashley swore and pulled back into the left lane. "Damnit!" He snapped, slamming the heel of his hand against the steering wheel.

"Ashley, it's gonna be okay. We'll get to her."

"You better be right, Mystic. I can't let anything happen to her. Not after-"

"I know," Jinxx interrupted. "I know, Ashley. That's why we're gonna go get her and whomever she drags out of that wretched place with her."


	5. Part 5

Andy edged into his Mystic's office. "Hey..."

Augustus gave a warm smile. "Hey, Andrew, what is it?" He carefully marked the page of his book and set it aside.

"Um..." The Prophet dropped his bookbag into a chair. "I was wondering if I could stay here, tonight?"

"You know you're always welcome here."

Andy swallowed hard. "I uh...have no intentions of sleeping."

The Mystic pulled one of the two keys from around his neck and placed it on the desk. "Do you know where you should start?"

"Actually... could you drive me to Sandra's? I know where she keeps her research."

Augustus stood, one hand pulling the coat from the back of his chair. "Come on. We can't waste any time."

Andy sighed in relief and grabbed his bookbag and the library key. "Hold on. I want reading for the road."

"Be quick!" Augustus insisted, heading for the car.

Andy closed the office door and held his key up to the lock. Then he let himself into the library and bolted towards the Mystic Genealogy. He grabbed the book for F and flipped until he found Ferguson. _MISSIONARY_ Andy sighed and grabbed the three books the passage had alluded to, then bolted out, sealing the library behind him.

"Buckle up," Augustus stated, wryly, as he threw the old truck into gear and headed towards Orion terrirory.

Andy sighed and looped his key back over his head. "Thanks."

Augustus only smiled a bit. "Researching your new guardian?"

Andy sighed and shrugged. "You're the one who taught me to be well informed before making a decision." He pried open a book and started scanning for Jinxx's name.

"Good," the Mystic mused. "Then at least you have learned something from me." He was quiet a moment and then, "If your aim is speed, start with the blue one."

So Andy switched books, rapidly scanning through the suggested volume. "Whoa!"

Augustus chuckled. "I know."

"He tested top marks at 16? That's unprecedented!" Andy mentally flipped through his history. "Only three Majiks in history have ever achieved that. And two of them were Luminescent."

"Exactly."

Andy sighed and continued reading. "All of his learning is completely practical. He studied theory for FUN. He's literally never stopped learning. He challenges himself. Augustus, he's perfect."

The old Mystic sighed. "Perhaps, but Andy? He is still young, yet. And while he has more field experience than most his age, it still isn't even half what is traditionally expected of a Guardian."

The light died from Andy's eyes. "You don't think he's good enough."

"No," Augustus insisted. "I just think he still has a lot to learn."

"Oh."

"And he has nothing but time and resources at his disposal. I encourage you, when all this mess with Sandra passes, to begin working more closely with him. That is the only way you will know he is the right fit."

Andy sighed and closed his book. "If he brings Sandy back in one piece, that will be proof enough."

The truck rattled down the long gravel path. Augustus threw it into park with an abrupt clunk. "You know what you're looking for?"

"Yeah, I'll be quick." The boy unhooked his keys from his belt and skipped up the stairs to the door.

"Alright, San, please tell me you kept it." The Prophet surged through the sitting room into the halfblood's private study. "Come on, damnit!" He rifled through the scattered papers on her desk until he found a tattered leatherbound journal with a gold envelope sticking out. "Bless you, baby!" the kid gasped, kissing the leather and taking off.

"Find what you were looking for?"

Andy grinned and held up the book. "Sandra's official notes. The ones she keeps organized and written neatly, not jotted illegibly on paper scraps scattered all over her desk." He laughed a bit and flipped the book open to the page marked by the envelope. "And her official assignment. Perfect!"

Augustus turned the truck around in the yard and headed back towards home. "So what's the assignment?"

Andy pulled a bit of parchment from the gold envelope. His expression fell.

"Andrew?"

With a hard swallow, the Prophet finally responded, in almost a whisper, "a Mourner." He looked up at his guardian with terror in his eyes, head shaking in disbelief.

"What do you mean?"

Andy scanned the assignment again. "A necromancer has just purchased a Mourner. Her assignment is to retrieve him before he can be transferred."

The Mystic glanced quickly at Andy, then back at the road. He pulled a matchbook from his pocket and tossed it to the boy. "I need you to write as much of that information as you can on a piece of paper, then roll down the window and burn it with one of these matches."

"I-I don't understand." Andy reached for his bag anyway.

"If a Necromancer has garnered enough power to actually purchase a Mourner from the only slave ring that traffics them - traditionally only temporarily, the council needs to know, immediately. The message will go straight to Elder Ebrues. He will be able to help."

Andy swallowed hard and nodded. He grabbed a notebook and wrote as quickly and neatly as he could in English, trying to include as much information as he had between the assignment and his vision. Then he tore the page from the spiral binding, lit a match, and held the burning page out the window, not letting go until the flames almost touched his fingertips.

"Do you think they'll get it in time?"

Augustus shook his head. "We can only hope." Then he pressed the gas pedal harder. "Until then, fill me in on her research on Mourners, and what you remember of them so we know where to start when we get back."


	6. Part 6

Jacob stretched, wincing at the sting of breaking scabs across his back. Then he nuzzled back against the boy beside him. Just one more hour. He knew this was the last time he'd see the only person in this world he loved. In an hour, the morning bells would chime, and he'd be taken away from here.

The boy sighed a bit. He wasn't sure what that meant. "You've been sold," Master Gallahan had boomed. He knew this was different than the others, the "clients" he served. Something about it scared him.

Most of the clients were just people. Desperate people hoping to hear from their lost loved ones one last time. That, he didn't mind so much. Most treated him well. They fed him, made sure he got a full night of sleep, thanked him, and then sent him back. But he'd been in this service long enough to know what "sold" meant. It meant that, starting tomorrow, he would no longer answer to Master Gallahan. It also meant he was at the complete whimsy of a stranger. Someone who could afford to purchase him, he knew, must be wealthy, and either very desperate or very dangerous. For some reason, he thought the latter was more likely. At least Master Gallahan was predictable. Cruel, but in a familiar sense.

"Get up."

The words were whispered harshly in his ear.

Jacob rolled over to look into the startling orange eyes of a vampiress.

"We have to move, fast, before they realize you're gone. Let's go."

"Not without Christian," Jacob insisted.

"My name is Sandra. I'm with the cooperative. I'm here you get you to safety."

The Mourner shook his head. "I'm not leaving without him, " he insisted, clinging tightly to the thin frame of the younger boy.

Sandra sighed. "Fine, but if he falls behind he gets left. You are the priority."

Jacob nodded, then leaned down over the younger man. "Chris, baby, wake up. It's time to go."

"Go?" The boy groaned and stretched.

"Shhh! Come on!" Jacob grabbed his friend's hand and pulled him to a crouching position. Then he felt a small, callused hand slip into his other one.

"Follow me. Stay low." Sandra crouched along beside the edge of the barracks, Jacob's hand in one of hers, a daunting looking knife in the other. Slowly they crept along the cold stone wall, Sandra carefully timing each move so they could slip, undetected, behind the guards.

"Chris, right?"

The younger of the two nodded, hesitantly.  
"Okay, you first. I need you to get over to that door. The code is 337. Got it?"

"3 3 7" the boy repeated slowly. Then he nodded and angled himself towards the door.

"Go, now!" Sandra whispered harshly.

Christian bolted across the room, not bothering to look or watch the guard. His body slammed hard into the door and he hurriedly punched in the three digit code. With a soft, bright hum and a little click, the door unlocked. He pried it open and tucked himself inside.

The other side of the door yielded nothing. It looked like a dead end. Just an empty, caved in tunnel.

He turned back, watching carefully through the peep hole. Then he saw Sandra and Jacob running for the door at full speed. At the last second, Christian threw the door open so the two stumbled in, then closed it tight behind them.

"This way," Sandra insisted, waving for them to follow her. She turned down a sharp curve Christian hadn't noticed before, then stopped short.

"We can only fit one by one. I have an associate on the other side to receive you." Sandra grabbed Jacob's shoulder. "You first."

The Mourner nodded and took a slow, deep breath. He turned to Christian, momentarily. "Hey. No matter what, don't stop til you're out of here." He pressed his forehead to the younger boy's, memorizing every fleck of gold in warm brown eyes. "I love you," he whispered.

Christian gasped a little. "I love you too."  
Then Jacob let go and ducked under the low hanging rock.

Sandra counted under her breath, then looked up at Christian and nodded slightly.

The boy took a deep breath and started down the narrow tunnel, keeping his chin tucked to his chest to avoid scraping his head on the rock. It was so dark, he couldn't see anything in front of him, and too narrow to look behind. He kept his hands pressed to the rock to either side, using that to guide himself along the winding passageway.

Then a blinding light met his eyes. Christian surged forward, desperate to escape. Then he heard a scream. A very familiar scream. "Jacob!" He shouted, running full speed out of the tunnel.

"Oh, did you boys really think I would let you go that easy?"

Christian froze. Master Gallahan had his Jacob tucked under an arm with the edge of a sharp dagger cutting into his throat.

"Let him go," the boy started, slowly. He held his hands out and slowly approached. "Please, Master Gallahan. Let him go, and take me, instead."

Sandra froze in the tunnel. If she revealed herself now, she'd lose both boys, and likely her own life. She pulled a gun from her hip and held it against her stomach as she loaded it to muffle the metallic clicks. Then she just stood and listened.

"Now, why would I do that?" Master Gallahan asked, menacingly.

Christian swallowed hard and crept closer. "Because we both know you're only strong enough to stop one of us. So which is it? Me? Or him?"

A light flickered in the old slaver's eyes. "Fine," he growled, shoving Jacob away and grabbing the other boy's arm in one move.

The Mourner tumbled into the floor, but managed to pick himself up quick. "Christian, what are you doing?"

"Go!" Christian insisted.

Jacob scampered sideways, not taking his eyes off his friend.

"I'll be okay, please just go."

With a hesitant nod, the Mourner hurried away. He had almost made it to the opening of the cave when he heard Christian scream "No!" Then a searing pain pulsed through him and he crumpled to the floor.

Sandra surged through the tunnel into the cavern opening. The Mourner was in a heap in the floor. She didn't have time to think. All she could do was run for the boy and hook an arm across his chest, hauling him to half standing and dragging him along behind her.

"No!" The boy screamed. "No, Christian!" Jacob sobbed into Sandra's shoulder, eyes fixed on where Master Gallahan had buried the silver knife into Christian's ribcage. "No!" He screamed, trying to fight the arms that dragged him away.

"I'll come back for him, " Sandra whispered into the Mourner's ear. "I promise, I'll come back for him."

A searing pain lanced through Christian's side. He didn't care. His heart was gone. He lost control of the one thing he'd been holding on to for years. Spirals of magic burst from his hands like black smoke. Without thinking, he plunged his hand into Master Gallahan's chest and wrapped his hand around the beating heart.

"I will not stay here under your rule," Christian murmured. Then he squeezed and squeezed.

Master Gallahan groaned in pain, gasping for breath. His grip on the boy loosened as life ebbed from him. Then he fell into a heap at Christian's feet.

The boy collapsed with him, magic spiraling and darting about in panicked pulses. He pulled himself up to sitting, watching a purple, almost black spark drift up from the old man's chest.

"No," Christian gasped. His magic spiraled around it, trapping it in place. Then, with a deliberate shove, he forced the soul spark back into Master Gallahan's chest.

A loud gasp rattled in the slaver's chest. But Christian couldn't let him get that far. His magic spiraled around and around the plump body, squeezing and spinning tight like a snake. He plunged his hand back in, this time ripping the heart clean out of his Master's chest.

Just then, the small cavern thundered with the sound of footsteps. Christian distantly felt hands wrapping around his arms and hauling him up. Something cold and metallic latched around his throat, and his magic froze, then dissipated. Then the boy blacked out.


	7. Part 7

"Hey, Augustus?"

The Mystic glanced up from the scatter of books on the table between himself and the boy. "Yes, Andrew?"

Andy swallowed hard. "What happens when a Necromancer gets a hold of a Mourner?"

Augustus sighed and crossed the library, fingertips trailing over the spines of books until he came across an old leather binding. Instead of a title, it only had a single symbol etched into the spine and front cover.

He crossed back to the table and hesitantly opened the book, turning it so Andy could see the images across the page.

"Oh." Andy swallowed hard, unable to look away from the page, but not wanting to see it.

"Necromancers, traditionally, require a body in order to resurrect a soul. But with a Mourner, they can directly channel the souls whether they have bodies or not. The result? A necromancer acquires the ability to control spirits of wrath and destruction."

A shudder wracked through Andy. "So if Sandra is unsuccessful...?"

Augustus sighed and closed the book. "Then the Majik people will have a very large mess on our hands."

Andy nodded. "Tell Jinxx to go in for her."

A worried expression crossed the Mystic's face. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. He has the skills. He's young, unknown. He knows how to blend in." The boy let out a breathy sigh. "He is her best bet at survival."

-

"Have you lost your goddamn mind?" Ashley screamed, fisting a hand in the back of Jinxx's shirt.

The Mystic spun on a heel to face his friend. "Listen to me, Ashley. I am highly skilled. I was raised doing shit like this. The Prophet and my superiors believe this is the best option."

"No!" Ashley yelled, throwing Jinxx against a wall. "It's bad enough my cousin is in there. I'm not gonna risk you, too."

"Did you not hear me, Deviant?" Jinxx hissed. "The Prophet himself has ordered me, ME, to go in there and retrieve the Mourner before he can fall into the hands of a Necromancer. Now let me do my job!" He shoved his hands into Ashley's chest hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs.

"Then I'm coming with you."

Jinxx stopped short. He gave his head a single hard shake. "No," he started, turning towards his friend. "No, you," he pointed at Ashley, "are going to go get the car. You are going to put on the headset, and you are going to stay in a call with me, and you are going to be exactly where I tell you to be when I tell you to be there. Am I clear?"

Ashley's mouth fell open in shock. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. I'll get right on that." He turned, as if in slow motion, and took off running for the car.  
With a sigh, Jinxx squared his shoulders and hurried through the doors of the old marble bank. He reached into his coat pocket for a small gold coin as he approached the customer service counter in the center of the marble room.

"What can I do for you, today, sir?" The cute blonde behind the counter seemed to be looking through him.

Without saying a word, Jinxx placed the coin on the counter, heads up, and turned it so the nose of the portrait faced East, precisely.

Striking blue eyes flickered in recognition. She leaned down, reaching for something under the table. Then she picked up the coin and turned back to Jinxx with a warm smile. "Right this way, sir," she chirped.

Jinxx followed the young woman down a long hallway. He couldn't help noticing the wave of Majik energy that poured off of her. He also couldn't help noticing the striking curve of her slim waist into round hips. Then she stopped, lifting a delicate hand to a pillar and releasing a small pulse of light.

Suddenly, the stone between that pillar and the next fissured and slid open wide enough to allow one person through. "You know the rules. Once this closes, you can't get back through. We cannot open it for you again. Extraction is your responsibility." Her voice had a slight twang that was almost as charming as her smile.

Jinxx glanced at her over his shoulder. He suddenly felt as if he couldn't leave her. Her eyes shimmered and the corner of her mouth rose up in a sweet smirk. "And if you make it out of there alive, maybe you can call me?" She leaned forward to tuck a card into his back pocket.

Before Jinxx could respond, she pulled her hand from the pillar, and the wall closed. The Mystic shook his head to clear it, trying to focus on his surroundings. Not that the bare, slick walls of a cavern could be considered much for surroundings.

He sighed, stilled himself a moment, and then pulled out the locket he'd taken from Sandra's house that had a picture of Ashley and a picture of an overly pretty young blonde girl in it. He opened it and laid it on his palm. Then he began quietly whispering an incantation. After a few long moments, a small shot of blue sparks shot from the necklace towards the left path, then dissipated.

With another shake of his head, Jinxx turned down that path, flame flickering between his fingertips as he walked. He crept slowly through the caverns, careful not to make a sound. Each time he came to a new path, he repeated his navigation spell. So long as he stayed on the path that would reunite him with Sandra, and he stayed out of sight doing so, everything would pan out.

As he walked, Jinxx distantly pondered Andy's reasoning for sending him. Was it a test to prove himself worthy of being Andy's Guardian? Was Andy aware of his accomplishments and genuinely certain he was Sandra's best bet? Was the Prophet just doing as the Council insisted?

But then, Jinxx decided he didn't care. He wasn't here on some decree by a Prophet. He was here to rescue his friend, something he would have done just as easily a month ago, even a year ago. He cared for Sandra and Ashley. Of all the people he'd met in his lifetime of travel and mission work, Sandra and Ashley were the first you accept him for him, not because of his parents or his skills. Whatever had brought him back to them didn't matter. They were family.


	8. Part 8

Sandra growled in frustration. None of her coms were working. She had no extraction team. This shouldn't have happened.

"Why are we stopping?"

The halfblood gave her charge a sad smile. "Because there's no where to go." She fiddled with the dial of her radio, but only static responded.

The boy tilted his head to one side. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she started with a sigh. "There is no extraction team. We're trapped. We can keep wandering the tunnels and probably get even more lost. Or we can camp out in that alcove until a new team can be put together."

"But.... what if they find us?"

The vampiress pulled a pistol from her hip, checking that it was still loaded. "I protect you at any cost," she answered in a half distracted voice as she checked her sight.

The boy settled down against the cold stone. "They miss you, ya know."

Sandra spun to look at him. "Who?"

The Mourner gave a warm smile. "Your parents. Don't worry. They passed on. But when I look at you, there is the leftover impression of them behind you, hands on your shoulders. It makes me happy to see that. I so rarely get to see the imprint of those who have passed on into the ether."

The woman nodded slowly, eyebrow arched up. "They're together? And happy?"

Without hesitation, the boy responded, "Absolutely."

Sandra was about to say something when she heard the echo of footsteps from the long tunnel. "Come on," she mouthed, motioning for the Mourner to follow her. She held a finger to her lips and reached her other hand back to grasp his, pulling him against her so they took up less space. Then she pulled them both into the blackout of a crevice of rock, praying it would be enough to keep them hidden.

Then the light flickering of fire met them. The soft orange light enhanced the sharp features of a familiar face, then blinked out. "Jinxx?" Sandra asked.

"Hey half-pint. The necromancer is in the tunnles. I just managed to hide in the stone long enough for her to pass."

"Her?"

"Shh!" Jinxx insisted. "Scoot over. I'm gonna seal us in."

Sandra narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

The guitarist sighed and squeezed in beside the vampiress. "I'm Mystic." Then he reached out his hand and hurriedly pulled the rock in over the opening.

"Since when?" Sandra demanded.

"Not to be rude," the Mourner started, "But now is not the time! The spirits are getting really loud which means one thing."

No one dared speak it, but they all knew. A Mourner being totally overrun with spirits was the effect of a Necromancer in proximity.

"Please tell me you have earned the respect of the spirits in this damn place, " Jinxx asked in barely a whisper.

"Most of them," the young Mourner responded, just as quietly.

"I know you're here, little speaker," a high voice cooed. "I can feel you."

Jinxx reached a hand out for the boy, grabbing onto whatever he could. He wrapped his other arm around Sandra and began chanting softly. Slowly, the three began to rise upward through the rock. After a few excruciating minutes, they surfaced in a pool of warm water.

Sandra gasped for air, coughing as water splashed up into her nose and mouth. "A little warning next time!"

Jinxx kept his hand fisted in the scrap of cloth that constituted a shirt, pulling the Mourner above the surface of the water and baring an arm around his middle. "Come on, kid, stay with us." He used his legs and an arm to propel them through the water towards a solid expanse of rock. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.

"Jinxx, come on! There's a cave opening here!"

The Mystic sighed, hauling the Mourner up onto the rock surface, then pulling himself up. He held a hand over this kid's face, pushing air into his lungs.

With a harsh gasp for air, the Mourner's body arched off the ground. "What the hell!" He wheezed.

"Sorry. Had no choice. Shoulda told you to take a deep breath first." He reached into his coat pocket for his phone and quickly dismantled it, drawing the water away from all the crevices. "San, help me figure out where we are."

The halfblood turned on her heel. "These caverns are marked, but I need Mystic Fire or Luminescent Light to reveal it."

"Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" The Mourner had managed to sit up, crossing his legs underneath him. His eyes skipped around the room, focusing on what wasn't visible to the naked eye.

"Jinxx, fire, now! Before the necromancer catches up with us! I have a feeling she's not one of the stupid ones."

The Mystic rolled his eyes. "Find me a rock with a hollow," he shouted at Sandra. Then he turned his attention to the Mourner. "Look kid. I can explain, or I can get us the hell out of here." He quickly reassembled the phone and mashed the power button.

"Rock," Sandra stated, holding it out to the Mystic.  
Without looking, Jinxx ripped a bit of his shirt and balled it up. Then he caught it on fire and dropped it in the hollow of the stone.

The Mourner whimpered. "There's so many..."

"So many, what?" Jinxx asked, looking up in alarm.  
"Uh, Jinxx?" Sandra's voices echoed. "You're not gonna like this."  
"No! Make them stop! Make it stop!" The Mourner scrambled back away from the water, fear in his eyes as his voice echoed off the stone walls.

The Mystic looked up at where his friend pointed. "A Daethlysk sacrificial pool. San, this is bad." He leaned down to scoop the kid to standing. "We need to get out of here right the fuck now." Then he mashed his speed dial for Ashley and held his phone to his ear, surging for the exit from the pool cavern.


	9. Part 9

"Not so fast."

Jinxx swore as the necromancer drifted forward, seemingly weightless. He had the sneaking suspicion she was carried by the spirits from the pool. "Ash?" he hazarded into his phone.

"Yeah tell me where I'm going," came the Vampire's voice down the line.

"Jinxx, what do we do?" Sandra asked with a note of fear in her voice.

The Mystic caught her eyes, then quickly cast his gaze to the fire in her hand and back. Sandra gave a subtle tilt of her chin in response, then abruptly turned and lobbed the fire at their adversary.

"You remember that one time out in LA when you tried to seduce that biker chick outside a dive bar?"

Ashley groaned in irritation. That had been the time they accidentally crossed into Daethlysk territory. "Let me guess. The burlesque bar is an Entrance."

"Bingo." Then he flipped the cell shut.

"Now what?" Sandra asked as the fire spread to reveal the shadows of spirits.

With a slow breath, Jinxx gathered his energy. He scattered himself into the air and reformed just behind her. "Get the kid out. I'll hold her off." Then he spun on a heel and drew up the fire from his fingertips.

Sandra hooked an arm with the Mourner's and cocked her pistol with the other. "Whatever you do, kid, don't let go." Then she took sight and aimed for the sorceress. Suddenly, something she couldn't see wrenched her arm backwards. She cried out in pain, loosening her hold on the Mourner to keep from pulling him back with her.

Jinxx didn't have to look to know what had happened. He kept his eyes on the necromancer and then flung a spark over his shoulder towards Sandra. Whatever had pulled her wrist instantly released her, a puff of smoke exploding away from her.

With a sound of disgust, Sandra pulled herself off the ground. She linked her fingers with the Mourner's, holding tight as she surged towards the mouth of the cave.

"Jinxx!"

The Mystic looked up to see Ashley standing behind the necromancer.

"The water! The souls are linked to the water!"

Understanding flickered in the Mystic's eyes. "Get down!" He yelled. Then he cast his arms to either side and the water from the pool rose up in a great wave, crashing over them all with almost crushing force. Then it all poured down the slight slope back into the pool, taking the souls with it. When Sandra, Jinxx and the Mourner stood, they remained dry. The necromancer, however, was drenched and angry.

"Go, go, go," Sandra hissed, shoving the Mourner forward in front of her.

Ashley crossed over in hopes of making it to his cousin, but a dark arm barred across his chest. "Just had to be a girl," he groaned. Then he brought an arm down on the appendage, wincing at the sickening snap of the impact breaking bone.

The woman wailed in agony and jerked her hand backwards, bringing the other to slam hard into the side of Ashley's head.

The vampire's fangs dropped and he grinned ruefully. "That trick might work on the people you've killed but I'm a bit more substantial than that." Then he kicked out hard, his foot catching the busk of an ornate corset and shoving it up against her sternum.

She gasped for air as she flailed, sparks of white flickering in her unseeing eyes. "You've not heard the last of me," she hissed, smoke rising from her skin.

"Get out of here!" Ashley yelled, glancing around to make sure they all made it past him. Then he threw his wings up and turned his back to the necromancer.

Sandra froze, turning around in the mouth of the cave. "Ashley!" she screamed as Jinxx grabbed her and the Mourner in each hand and pulled them to the ground.

The earth shook around them, smoke billowing from the opening of the cave. Then everything was silent.

Sandra dragged herself up off the ground. "Ashley!" she cried again, stumbling towards the cave. Ashley's body lay in a heap, wings crumpled like paper. She fell to her knees at his side, pulling him into her lap as she checked him over.

Jinxx approached, slowly, eyebrows canted up in querry.

"He's got a pulse," she sighed in relief. "Help me get him up."

The Mystic rushed forward and hauled Ashley's body up over his shoulder. "Get the kid. We gotta get out of here. That blast will have set off alarms."

Sandra nodded and hurried towards the Mourner, grabbing him by the arm and rushing towards a fissure in the stone wall. They stumbled out into a filthy alley lit by flickering red and blue neon lights. At the opposite end sat Ashley's beat up old truck. "Bless," Sandra gasped when she realized the engine was running.

"Door," Jinxx grunted as the brick of the wall rearranged itself behind him.

The halfblood yanked the passenger and back doors open, pushing the kid into the front seat. Jinxx climbed into the back, laying Ashley out and carefully cataloguing his injuries. Then Sandra slammed both doors shut, running around the vehicle and jumping into the front seat.

"Damn tall people," she cursed, reaching for the lever to push the seat forward. Then she threw the truck into gear and took off. 


	10. Part 10

"Someone get the number of that bus?" Every part of Ashley's body hurt. He didn't dare open his eyes.

Jinxx lightly ran fingers over the bassist's chest. "Hey, hey. Try not to move."

The vampire groaned. "I don't think that will be a problem," he grit out. "What about Sandra?"

"I'm okay, Ash. I'm driving. Dislocated my shoulder and I've got a couple scrapes but I'm okay."

Ashley sighed, then followed it with a labored cough and a groan of pain. "Someone needs to call Andy. He needs to know what happened."

Jinxx sighed. "I gotta check in with the Council and the Prophet first," he mumbled, extracting his phone from his pocket.

"Elder Ebrues, this is Jeremy Ferguson." Jinxx said into the phone. "The asset and the target have been secured. The adversary is temporarily disabled."

Ashley sighed in annoyance at the officiality of the language. It was also so weird to hear his friend use his given name.

"Yes sir. I will check in with him now." Then Jinxx hit the end call button and a speed dial immediately after. "Prophet, sir."

"Jinxx, what the hell?" Andy responded.

"Yes sir, the target is secure."

"Ohh," Andy said, catching on. "You're with them."

"Yes, sir, the asset is safe as well. She is currently driving. What is our directive?"

Andy sighed. "Is anyone inured?"

Jinxx winced. "The target is physically unharmed, though he has become nonverbal since the escape. The asset has some minor injuries. But sir? The Deviant traveling with me sustained serious damage."

"Ashley!" Andy gasped. "Is he okay?"

"On the verge of consciousness. Sir, he took the blast."

"Blast?"

The Mystic sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and eyes squeezing closed. "The necromancer was a female. A Daethlysk sorceress." Then Jinxx held the phone slightly away from his ear as the Prophet swore down the line.

"Get him to a healer. Now."

"Sir, the nearest healing mansion is an hour and a half from us, and he us unfit for transfer."

"Fine," Andy growled. "Then send me the coordinates of the nearest safe house. I'll have a healer meet you there. And Mister Ferguson?"

Jinxx swallowed hard when Andy used his name. "Yes sir?"

"Don't make me have to come out there."

"Yes, Prophet, sir. I understand." Then he closed the phone. "Take the next exit," Jinxx informed Sandra.

Without asking, the halfblood turned down the exit ramp, following the directions to the nearest safe house.

-

Andy jumped when his phone rung again.

"Jinxx, you just hung up on me."

"Hey Andy. Just checking in," came the Mystic's voice down the line.

"Alright, care to tell me how everyone actually is?"

"Yeah, Sandra's okay. She's driving. Wanna talk to her?"

Andy pondered a moment. "Jinxx, you know how I feel about phones and driving."

"Right, okay. Ashley's a little beat up."

Andy bristled. "Taking the suicide blast of a Daethlysk is hardly considered a little beat up, " he growled.

"Yeah he'll be alright. Gonna get him to a hospital."

"You better get him to a specialized healer before he self destructs, too."

"Andy, he wants to talk to you."

The singer froze. "Why?"

"Hey pipsqueak," Ashley's voice rattled.  
"Ash! Are you okay?"

There was a thud, and a low groan of pain. Andy suspected they must have hit a bump. "Just really fucking sore," he groaned. "But don't worry. I'll heal, and I'll be back on that stage with you as soon as I can."

"O-okay," Andy responded. He wasn't sure why Ashley being hurt made him so upset. He just knew it scared him. "How long, do you think? Maybe I'll take the weekend to come visit."

"That's not necessary, pipsqueak. I'll be just fine."

"You better be," Andy responded. Then the line disconnected.

The singer snapped the phone closed and threw it against the wall in anger. Then he stormed back into the sitting room where he and Scout had been watching old Batman reruns. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her up, slamming a rough kiss against her mouth.

She groaned a bit and wrapped her arms around him. "Any particular reason for this enthusiasm?" Her breath whispered across his lips.

"Yeah, " Andy husked. "I've got some energy to expel." Then he kissed her again, pushing her down against the couch and slipping his hands up the back of her shirt.


	11. Part 11

A soft knock at the door pulled Andy from his sleep. He groaned and pulled Scout's small body harder against him. "Whaaaaat?"

"Andrew, I have news." Augustus's voice filtered through his bedroom door.

With a sigh, Andy dragged himself from his bed and crossed to the door, opening it a crack. "Did mom let you in? Or did you just walk through the walls?"

"The latter," the old Mystic said, softly. "Get dressed, and see your angel back to her home. We need to go. Ashley has taken a bad turn."

Panic flickered through Andy's eyes. With a curt nod, he closed his door and crossed back to his bed. "Scout," he whispered softly, shaking her shoulder. When she didn't respond to that he leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Talibah, wake up."

With a groan, the young woman pulled herself to sitting. "What? What is it?"

Andy swallowed hard. "Ashley's hurt. I need to go."

She nodded, slowly standing and pulling her dress back on. "Let me know you make it out there safe," she whispered, leaning in and pulling the singer's head down for a soft kiss. Then she crossed to his window and threw herself out, silvery black feathered wings extending to catch an updraft and send her soaring into the sky.

Andy sighed and hurriedly pulled on a pair of ripped jeans and a Motley Crue shirt, grabbing his leather jacket as he hurried down the stairs.

"Uh, Andrew," Augustus whispered as the kid hurried for the door. "Perhaps you should inform your parents of where you're going?"

The boy stopped short and turned on his heel. "Fine," he groaned, stalking into the kitchen. He jotted a note onto the pad on the refrigerator, then turned to the door again. "Satisfied?" he demanded, pulling on his boots and throwing his coat around his shoulders.

Augustus sighed and shook his head in exasperation. "Come on. I've made arrangements to take the fire from my house to the Los Angeles healing house."

-

Andy grabbed Jinxx by his upper arm and dragged him across the infirmary, throwing him against the wall and pinning him in place.

"Prophet Andrew," one of the healers started in protest, but Augustus held him back.

"I gave you a direct order to extract Sandra and the Mourner," Andy growled, pulling all his Prophet energy up and shoving it in the Mystic's face. "Not to let Ashley attempt suicide!"

"Andy," Jinxx started in a calm voice. He'd be in trouble, later, for referring to the Prophet so informally in front of his elders, but he didn't care. Right now, he wasn't talking to the Prophet. He was talking to a scared 17 year old boy. One who was growling down at him menacingly.

But using a familiar tone seemed to work. Though Andy didn't back down, the full force of his energy ebbed and the worst of his snarling eased off.

"You and I both know that no one, not you, not me, not even an army, could have kept a Deviant from protecting his family."

Andy's eyes flickered. He nodded almost imperceptibly, but he didn't back down. He was still angry.

"I did everything I could to keep him away until the last second," Jinxx continued in a slow, steady voice. "His actions saved Sandra, the Mourner, and myself from certain death, and may very well have saved the world from a power crazed Necromancer channeling through a Mourner." The Mystic squared his shoulders and pressed his palms to Andy's chest, not pushing, just holding him in place.

Then the boy, for despite being a Prophet he was just a boy, collapsed forward, tucking his head against Jinxx's shoulder as a stifled sob wracked through him. Jinxx just wrapped his arms around Andy's skinny body, hands running up and down his back, soothingly. "I know, kid. Let it out," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the boy's temple.

He made eye contact with Augustus across the room, and received an encouraging nod. His mentor approved. At least he was doing something right.

"Come on, kid. You'll feel better if you lay with him." Jinxx kept an arm wrapped around Andy's waist and led him down the infirmary to where Ashley was asleep in a bed with his broken wings laid out in slings fastened from the ceiling to either side.

Andy looked around at the Majiks in the room, big blue eyes saddened, and begging for permission.

"He had the sense to turn his back to the blast," Jinxx started, softly. "His wings absorbed the worst of it. There should be enough space for you on his right side. Just be careful not to jostle his wing too much."

Augustus and a graying Luminescent woman nodded to him.

Jinxx reached for the collar of Andy's studded leather jacket. "You should probably take this off, though," he insisted, pulling it down the singer's shoulders.

Andy allowed his arms to slip from the sleeves. Then he stepped up along the Vampire's right side. He looked around the room, hesitantly, once again.

Augustus offered a soft smile. The Luminescent woman had a blanket in her arms, ready to unfold over him. The others in the room pointedly turned away, busying themselves with other patients or else in conversation with one another. It was clear this was a private moment between the Prophet, and his chosen family.

With a shaking breath, Andy settled on the edge of the bed, pulling his long legs up onto the mattress and then carefully leaning down. He rested his head against Ashley's bruised chest, adjusting slightly to make sure he wouldn't jostle the wing hanging behind him. Then he hesitantly let his hand fall against Ashley's abdomen, fingertips trailing over the bold black letters tattooed against tanned skin.

"Please stay with me, Ash," he whispered, choking back tears. "I can't lose you. You have to fight this."


	12. Part 12

Andy gasped for air as he slammed back to consciousness. Then he felt the slow, steady breathing of Ashley underneath him. With a low groan, he pulled himself to sitting and reached for his bag at the end of the bed, withdrawing his journal and hurriedly scribbling away. He distantly noticed a hand gripping his side even though Ashley didn't wake.

"What is it, Prophet Andrew," a Mystic asked.  
The boy groaned in disgust. He didn't need a bodyguard. "It's nothing. Just a recurring." He huffed and shoved his book back in his bag.

"Is there anything you need, sir?"

Andy's hand slipped into Ashley's beside him. "I need a status update on the Mourner and I want either Augustus or Ji- Jeremy back here. I don't want a babysitter. I want people familiar with how my brain works."

The Mystic nodded and turned away.

Before Andy had the chance to lay back down, one of the healers approached to check on Ashley. "He is improving, but slowly. Things turned back around when you arrived."

Andy smiled weakly. "What can be done for him?"

"He needs rest, mostly. He'll need blood when he regains consciousness, though it has been suggested that you not be here for that. It could risk your anonymity." The Mystic smiled sadly.

The Prophet closed his eyes for a long moment. "Is there anything I can do?"

One of the Luminescent healers approached. "You sing, right?"

Andy nodded.

"Sing to him, " she insisted. "Music heals the soul, and your voice is familiar to him."

With a bit of a cough to clear his throat, Andy stood. He readjusted to sit facing his band mate, one hand still holding Ashley's as the other stroked softly over fine, straight black hair. Then he let his voice bubble up from deep in his chest, starting in on a song he rarely sang. It was stupid and cliché and so overused, but Ashley liked it, so Andy had memorized all five verses.

_"I heard there was a secret chord that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do ya?"_

The softness of the lyrics felt strange in Andy's mouth. He was so accustomed to the harsh rasp and hard screams of rock vocals. As a result, he sang very quiet, so he could better control the shifting pitch and tone of each note.

Almost as if in habit, Andy's fingertips pressed into Ashley's skin, one hand at his neck and the other on the back of his hand, mimicking the pattern of how they moved over piano keys. It wasn't something he could control. Once he'd learned a song on piano, he would often find himself playing invisible keys whenever he heard or sang the song. Nothing built up muscle memory like piano.

He reached the dramatic rise of the third verse, and Ashley stirred a bit. Andy reached out to brush light fingers over sharp cheekbones, his voice not halting.

"Ndy?" It was barely audible, but the Vampire had spoken.

"Prophet Andrew, we need to go." A Mystic placed a firm hand on Andy's shoulder.

Andy didn't move at first. He needed to be here, with Ashley. Needed to hear his voice, see those warm caramel brown eyes.

Another healer approached with a syringe, plunging the wooden needle into Ashley's arm. The bassist instantly quieted.

"This sedative will only last a few minutes with his metabolism working overtime to heal him. Prophet Andrew, you need to go."

Andy gave a long sigh and stood to collect his things. He pulled on his leather jacket, swung his bookbag over one shoulder, then just stood and looked down at his band mate for a long moment. In a snap of spontaneity, the singer leaned down and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his friend's lips. "You get better, Ash," he whispered. Then he turned for the door, extracting a pack of cigarettes from his pocket as he went.

"Hey kid, how you holding up?"

Andy looked over his shoulder to see Jinxx jogging after him. "Annoyed. Ash is waking up and they're making me leave."

Jinxx offered a sad smile. "Perhaps this presents an opportunity for you to Unbind the people you intend to live with for the rest of your life."

Andy shook his head. "I'm not even ready to tell Scout."

A hand clapped to Andy's shoulder as the two headed down the long hallway and out the side door of the mansion. "You can't keep it a secret forever."

"No," Andy sighed, extracting a cigarette and lighting it as he leaned against the sun warmed brick. "But the longer they think I'm just a simple human, oblivious to the things of this world, the safer I will be." He took a long drag, smoke puffing from his lips.

"There is safety in numbers as well as solitude," Jinxx offered.

Andy just sighed. "San has her suspicions. But she's always been adept at figuring things out." He shook his head, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette. "How's the Mourner?"

"His name is Jacob. He is very skilled. Afraid, still, but I think he's warming up to Sandra and I. His mother was musical. I'm interested to know if it was passed along."

Andy's eyebrows knit together. "How do you know about his mom?"

With a wide grin, the mystic responded, "Because she is with him. Her spirit won't let go. Not until she is satisfied he's safe."

"Is that common?"

Jinxx's head wobbled in uncertainty. "In Mourner lines, it is."

Andy nodded his understanding, putting his cigarette out on the brick. "Mystic Jeremy Ferguson," he said, letting power ebb in his voice.

Jinxx's head whipped around fast to make eye contact. "Prophet Andrew Biersack"

Andy swallowed hard, grasping Jinxx's forearm. "I accept."

With a slow nod, Jinxx lifted a hand to rest over Andy's. "I'll inform the council. We can have the ceremony arranged within a week."

Then Andy was pulled into a comforting embrace against the other man. "Hey Jinxx?" He started, pulling away a bit.

"Hmm?"

"You might wanna start drawing up your character concepts because Black Veil Brides wears full body paint."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know there are so many loose ends going on here but I promise I will get to them. This just seemed like a good place to end these musings. Otherwise I'll go on and on and it'll be annoying.


End file.
